


Coffee Shop Soundtrack

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1433683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirstein is an emancipated high school student who works at a local cafe. He lives a rather peaceful life, has a small following on youtube, and aspires to be in a band and get a recording contract. Well that is until he finds himself head over heels for Marco Bodt, the young novelist who choses to write at the cafe where he works. Hes nervous and a wreck and after many tries actually manages to get the other boys affections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Shop Soundtrack

Coffee Shop Soundtrack

 

 

 Chapter One: Six Feet Under The Stars

 

      I rolled over in my bed, the thin sheet wrapping around my bed. The thin, ivory sheet clinging to my frame as my head lay on a cloud of pure cotton wrapped securely inside a plain white case. The confronter rested at my feet in a tangled mass of cloth. I raised my upper body, my dual colored hair tousled into a mess atop my head. The sandy blonde top layer of the undercut I’d managed to maintain since the beginning of high school looking more unruly than its usual contained self.

     The clock on my bed side read out that it was nearly nine o clock. I wasn’t going to be late, but I was to aware of my surroundings to fade back into sleep. Today I was going to be working my usual Saturday shift at the café, no big plans (except possibly showing up Jaeger while working as a barista). I worked at a local coffee shop that was nestled in the middle of the downtown Trost called Marias. It was a quaint little shop with a warm, inviting atmosphere and the team of current employees was a recipe for chaos, but it felt more like home than I’d like to admit.

     Levi (the assistant manager) kept us working on the cleanliness of the shop, that man would have a minor heart attack if he even saw the tiniest speck of dust on any of the many surfaces throughout the shop. Not to mention he was grumpy on most days. Eren, however, was the exact opposite. He tended to make messes. He was also my partner in working the counter and preparing the elaborate orders that people came in with( I swear to god some people literally just sit down and ask themselves “hey lets make this poor person suffer though listening to this long ass order, then watch them take forever trying to remember exactly what I said.” It pisses me off but I have the mind to bite back comments on rude customers until they are out of ear shot.).    

     Eren and I had a thing where we would compete for tips. It was friendly competition but at times it got a bit out of hand, especially around holidays. He got hot headed so easily and friendly insults and banter would sometimes turn into violently making iced coffee or even throwing pieces of the stuff at each other  behind the counter, but he was a good guy once you got to know him.

     Connie and Sasha were a completely different story since they worked in the back kitchen baking the goods that would be served throughout the day(bad move but you know, I’m pretty sure the boss knows what he’s doing to some extent). They were actually quite good at the job when pushed hard enough by Levi. Lastly there was Erwin, the saint of the entire operation(well at least the owner/manager). He was the one who first offered me a job working at Maria’s once I was emancipated from my parents due to the expectations that I could never live up to. Between that and the fact they wouldn’t hesitate to shove their beliefs down my throat. Learn French he said, learn to be a proper gentleman he said. Don’t become gay, don’t draw, don’t dress like that, don’t listen to that, don’t become one of those things that lost their way chasing some dream. He cared to much about the little details about my life that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted to write music, to be in a band, to play my guitar and sing to groups of fans. All that and I was relatively good at drawing so I could always become a tattooist should all else fail.

    I didn’t have to leave for the shop until twelve, that gave me a few hours to kill. Perhaps I should get ready for the day now, or possibly filming a cover video for my Youtube channel. I wasn’t hot shit on you tube, but I wasn’t cold piss either. I had about 873 subscribers and most of my videos had nearly that many views. Saturdays I usually did a cover song, Wednesdays were my Vlog days. This week I had planned on doing a My Chemical Romance cover since it was nearly the year anniversary of them tragically  breaking up(I never spoke about it. It never happened, after all its just one year closer to the come back tour, since you know, the bible says Adam and Eve not be a band for twelve years then leave. Fuck why would they do that.). I wasn’t really in the mood for it though, to be honest. I could always play the first song I ever played that I was proud of. It had stuck with me though the years, and was by  _Slipknot_  (yes I did indeed have one of those god-awful Goth phase, shut up. I also went through a scene phase later that year but that’s a different story, and partially the reason my hair had stayed in the style its currently in for the past few years, minus the neon dyes). Up until then it had been dilapidated versions of hymns for a god that I’d never believed in, so I didn’t put much effort into it at all.

     I got up. Did the usual things that are associated with living the life of the average teenager, such as personal hygiene. When I finished I found myself wearing a loose fitting  _Hands Like Houses_  tee, and a pair of jeans that made my ass look rather nice. I smiled at myself, my hair still messy but the organized kind of messy that I then pulled under a plain, grey beanie that I’ve owned since god knows when that bore the tatters of wear proudly on all sides. My mom used to yoink it right off my head the instant she saw it and if she saw me now she’d be drowning in her own tears since I now owned like 12 of them in various hues. This one was my favorite possibly because of the sentimental value of having my hair ripped off along with it(swear to god there was I time I thought I was going bald because of it being ripped off so often but cest la vie).

     It was only ten so I decided it would be my best interest to film this weeks update before I started getting messages asking if I was dead. I had settled on playing  _demolition lovers_  and made my way to the case that held my acoustic baby that had been tattooed by Armin and myself when we were in like the 7th grade. It was a very crude depiction of Absol in the bottom corner, Armin did most of the work, saying it would fit me since I played so disastrously at the time and would serve as a warning to others. Since then we hadn’t really had classes together so we began to fade apart slowly as the years went on up until I began working with his neighbour/best friend since pre k. He was the only one who knew about my sexual orientation as far as I knew and joked about me being so far in the closet that I was doing deals with the white witch, the tyrant ruler over Narnia. I silently added that I was asking her for the emancipation from my parents instead of sweets.  


     I let my fingers slide gingery into the positions to play. My right hand clutching onto a pick in-between my thumb and index finger, whilst my other hand grasped ath the neck, fingertips grazing over the rough strings as the body of it rested in my lap. I began to warm up. Plucking out a bouquet of notes that helped me find the right sound. Within minutes I was recording, one mic set up to collect the sounds of my baritone voice and the collective sounds of the guitar. Words cannot describe how euphoric this feeling is. The pure unadulterated freedom that music brought with it, it was perfect in ever little way. It came so easy to perform in front of a camera, to put my soul into the very essences of the sounds resonating from the instrument and voice. To make a song that wasn’t mine according to copyright laws and add my own twist to it that made it unique, personal. I was horrified of performing in front of a crowd for fear I wouldn’t be able to replicate this feeling of flow on stage. Yes I wanted to do this professionally, but if I achieved that would the music still caress me like the waves of the sea  upon my body.

            The song was over, my breathing labored from the sheer amount of euphoria brought to me by the music itself. I was married to it, for better or for worse. Within seconds my breathing began to return to normal, and a genuine smile spread across my face as I thanked the people that would watch this video in the future. I was still grinning as I pushed the button to officially end the recording as I began to edit. The process tended to take forever and normally required me adjusting the actual volume of my voice over the music because the mic, regardless of where I put it, picked up on that a bit to well for it to blend well with the guitar. I had an old soundboard I bought at a thrift store for about $150 that was in relatively good condition, besides the corner that needed to be covered entirely in duck tape or things got unholy. As I finalized the video I opened up the chrome and brought up You tube and Tumblr.

 

           Tumblr was an  _interesting_  website. I was a band blog, so as a result I pretty much was staring down photosets of Alan Ashby and Austin Carlile that were labeled Chasby in the description, often followed by the tags, #otp, #cahsby, #babies. There was nothing wrong with shipping, I did it myself with fictional characters, however I felt just like this was something that had to interfere with these peoples lives. I mean imagine looking up your name and finding a 15,000 word fanfic of you getting it shoved so far up your ass you needed to have your hole repaired( ~~oh god and some of them had kids~~ ), um not my cup of tea. Or my tenth shot of tequila. Not to mention it probably pressures somebody in that friendship.

      The video was now uploading, and it was about 11:00, so I decided it would be in my best interest to go on ahead and get to the café. I pulled on a plain black zip hoddie and pulled my beanie down farther onto my head as I walked out into the crisp October air.

            Walking to work was nice, well unless the sky decided that no you were in fact going to be taking the bus, because screw you ,I need to piss on everything and make the ground all mushy and get you soaked all the way through your five layers of winter clothes. The bus was horrid. It was dirty, dank, and always smelled of three things. Old people, sweat, and existential crisis’s. Besides wasn’t it healthy to walk everywhere, right? I mean I’ll gladly take getting hit by a car during rush hour than the bus any day, I was a teenager, I stared death in the face and laughed because I was too dumb to notice it(that and I jaywalked quite often, so yes it happened a lot). At least I had a stronger chance of surviving a car crash than contracting Ebola on the bus for the simple fact I’d bet money in Vegas that someone would see it and then get help, regardless of the “everyman for himself rule” that the school teaches you at a young age.

            The café was on the horizon after about 15 minutes of walking and dodging past cars on the way to god knows where since it was not just Saturday it was the Saturday the day before Halloween. That fell on a Tuesday this year which naturally meant school would be holding a dance, as if I cared. Either way it was going to be a big day to to the fact whenever a holiday fell on a time like this people celebrated from the weekend till the day of the event.

 

            I walked in to find Levi already in house…and with that woman(at least so I thought) …with the glasses that looked like you could get them in a steam punk store on Etsy.. Whatsername…    Han…dsy.. Hanley… Hanji. That was it. God why was that so hard for me to remember. Anyway they were talking about a mile a minute(Hanji was anyway), about some tumor that she was studying back at the stem cell research lab that she worked at. According to her she had nicknamed it bean because it had come off some poor mans kidney. That was all I understood about it anyway between the gibberish and scientific banter. Even my chemistry teacher Mr. Hanes would have difficulty deciphering it, then again on the first day of class he told us to “Remember kids according to alcohol, chemistry was indeed a solution,” before proceeding to tell us a drunk story about the night before.  He was a trip though, he was funny, charming, had a nice butt, but regrettably not my type. Now the substitute for French class though…

            I snapped back into reality. I needed to focus on now. As in there was a coffee machine that needed to be cleaned now before Levi could think about getting on my case about it. Or worse, make me redo the entire process from scratch, and lemme tell you NOT TODAY. Just no. By tonight I’ll be so ready to just  go home and watch what ever crappy horror movie marathon scy-fy channels deciding to run. Trust me the shittier the movies special effects, the better, just for the simple fact it gave me something to giggle profusely at. Same thing with  _Nosferatu,_ the buck-fanged Count Orlock never failed to make me melt into a fit of giggles whenever he appeared on the screen, regardless of my age. Mom used to alert me if she even seen it playing on cable since she knew it was my favorite horror movie to this day. Hell even  _Sharknado_ couldn’t replace it cause nothing beats a classic, nothing.

            “Hey Jeen,” I heard a familiar voice mock from behind my back. “Yes, Jaeger?” I replied bluntly, not in the mood for any of his bull of shit today, even if this was the normal witty banter that never failed to spew from our mouths upon greeting each other in the mornings.

            “For a boy with hooves, you’re actually cleaning that thing pretty well, but you’re little hooves might wind up cloven if you get any close to that blade.” he snickered at his own little joke.   


            “Well better to have cloven hooves than to know that when I grow up I’ll inevitably write a series of books about cats tat have clan wars. Crazy cat boy.” I smirked at that. I had successfully did the thing he couldn’t do by picking at something other than his looks. Thank you Pacific Rim for telling me Jaeger was German for hunter.

            “At least I have a successful future in the bag,” he grinned cleaning off the counter with a plain white wash rag, well at least wiping the surface messily.

            “Says the boy who hardly ever reads, much less writes, and can’t seem to clean worth a shit,” a third voice chimed in. Levi was scrutinizing the counter with very judgmental looks. He used to be in the military, lance corporal if I remember correctly, so naturally he wanted things to be immaculate. “Redo it all, then continue on with the tables. Now. Nice Job, Kirschtein.” I smirked inwardly at that. It wasn’t often that Levi complemented anyone, and it was enough to make me get a bit cocky.   


            “Oi, that means you still need to do your job.” right on cue, I heard the scowl in his voice even if I didn’t look behind me I knew it was there. I heard Eren stifle a laugh at that from the counter. Damn it. I finished it off as Levi began to set up the resister for the day, then mechanically grabbed a broom and began to sweep right as Connie walked out of the kitchen absolutely covered in almond flower, corn flower, and any other powder used for baking under the sun and placing some fresh baked macaroons and muffins into the display case for the day, all while a grin consumed his face. Levi just scowled at him, distaste showing on his features plainly. Levi had suggested that the shop begin selling macaroons and crepes, due to his French heritage to Erwin, and Erwin ate the idea up to the point the café occasionally carried crème brulee during the colder winter months.

            The door slammed open as Sasha burst through the door her breathing heavy, and with a corned of a piece of buttered toast with jam hanging out of her mouth. She was late coming off her break by about five minutes which was unusual for her. Her reddish brown hair pulled back into a pony tail as she sputtered apologies to Levi faster than I thought it was humanly possible to speak. Levi simply emitted a “Tch” sound in response before dismissing her and continuing his own job, the growing distaste for the lot of people in the café right now being evident, especially with Hanji now…oh shit.   


            There was the sound of a bell ringing at the front entrance that was used by patrons, though it was 5 minutes till we opened. He was gorgeous. Tanned skin speckled with freckles, about a full head taller than me, and legs that went on for days. I knew him. It was no one other than Marco Bodt, the president for the book club. He was always kind to everyone, with a genuine smile that not only remained on his face and caused dimples to show upon his freckled cheeks, but it could melt your heart so fast that rainbow dash wouldn’t even be able to keep up(yes I do watch it, and no I’m not one of “those” people. “Nice guys” my ass, douche plungers). Anyway he was standing at the register waiting for service, and Levi was long gone from there and was back to getting Hanji to act like they were in a public facility instead of in a roaring mosh pit. So I took the initiative to walk up. 

            “You’re five minutes early, you know that right?” I asked trying to keep my cool.

 

            “Ummm, is that bad, casue if so I can wait.”

            “No, no, no. Its no big deal really, just figured I’d let you know incase questions get asked.” I replied. “Now what can I get you?”

 

            “One Medium Apple Cider with extra cinnimon please,” I nodded in response “That‘ll be 2.23 please”. Marco pulled out his wallet and gave me a five before I worked the register and gave him back his change in full.

            The apple cider was a seasonal drink for the fall that always was quite popular since we used freshly ground cinnamon and made the actual apple-juice/cider stuff by hand out back using locally grown produce. It was Erwin’s idea that’s turned into a tradition here at the shop, and it made my job a bit different since I now had to go and actually retrieve some of the cidery stuff from the machine that Levi was left in charge of during the season. It was already warm when I got it now all I needed to do was add the extra cinnamon to the beverage and give it to Marco. He smiled, and took it before walking back to a table out in the open.

 

            “Dude. You like him?” I heard Eren’s voice whisper. I decided it was in my best interest to ignore him at least until Armin shows up to check in on Eren. I’ll have a chat then and see if there’s anyway Eren knows, though I highly doubt Armin has uttered a peep about it. I just need to see if I’m that obvious.

            Minutes passed, and Marco was sitting in the far Conner typing away on a laptop at breakneck speed before scrunching up his nose, deleting, and then looking back at a set of notes contained in a plain business filing folder. Other guests had spilled in but it wasn’t enough to overload Eren and I so I had enough time to send wistful glances around the shop to make sure things were running smoothly. Reiner, Bertholt, and Annie had walked in and began chatting amongst themselves. They hadn’t ordered anything yet, and it peeked my curiosity to see what they were doing loitering around.

 

            Reiner was the captain of the schools football team, the Titans, and was supposedly one of the best captains they’d had in four years, since he took the job seriously. Bertholt, however, was normally attending Book Club meetings and was a star runner for the schools track team. Not to mention Annie had come in quietly celebrating last week for finally getting a black belt in karate after years of training(plain green tea, bleh, then again discipline and control were things taught in those classes so couldn’t complain to much about her choices). 

            The café was packed within sheer minutes, and I was loaded with orders for everything from frappes with extra shots of espresso and caramel to double chocolate cappuccinos with extra milk, froth, with an extra shot of espresso(trust me why add the extra milk if your just gonna get a fucking shot of espresso mixed in Jesus Christ, it just made the drink more expensive than it was really worth). Eren had taken to running between the register and drive thru while I handled the tables and made the drinks. Levi was in the serving area cleaning as customers left at break neck pace. Erwin was requested by an elderly lady who looked a bit to old to be waltzing into a place normally swamped with teenagers to middle aged business men and women on daily commutes and their interns.

 

            “Hey Jean,” I heard Armin’s voice ring out fro behind me. He was seated at a table with Mikasa, Eren’s adopted sister.

            “What is it Armin?” I looked at him, studding his facial features.

            “Well theres going to be a haunted house tonight, and they are looking for volunteers to work it, you wanna go with us. Since you know, they kinda always run short on the weekend before and the day of Halloween.” Of course, how could I have forgotten the long tradition of working at the local haunted house. Probably because it opened last weekend and I didn’t work opening weekend like I normally do. The Brightside is that it helped fund for the local fire department, that and an bunch of marines normally helped out which was more than enough reason for me to want to work there, even if they were straighter than Mitt Romney in a gay bar.

             "Yea, love to. I for got about it.” I said

            “I noticed you weren’t there opening night, didn’t you ask us last year to help?” Mikasa was barely audible, her face buried in a raggedy, red scarf that wrapped around her neck elegantly for such a tattered object.

           “Um, yea, that’s because we were running short, even on opening night.”

            “Hey Guys, What’s up?” Eren bustled over to the table, his turquoise eyes glittering like broken glass upon fresh snow. They always looked sharp, ready to go, and so full of energy.

         “Just the haunted house tonight, that’s all” Armin replied.

            “Really we still going then?” Eren inquired but before he could get his answer Levi interrupted. “ Kirschtein handle the table in the corner, he’s been in here all morning, Jaeger you handle tables 3 and 4 things are getting loud over there. I’ll handle the register for now.”

           “Sir, yes, sir” I heard Eren say before taking off in the opposite direction. The table in the corner. Oh shit, Marco. Up until this very moment I had nearly forgotten about him since he was typing so diligently away at the keys in front of his freckle spattered hands.

           “Can I help you?” I awaited a response, my palms sweating lightly with nervousness. It wasn’t like I was asking him on a date but I’d always been a bit nervous when talking to attractive people anyways so I guess it was normal. He didn’t respond until a moment later when he looked up and pulled a ear bud out.   
  


            “Oh, Sorry, did you ask me something?” he smiled, apologetically.

            “I asked if you needed anything, you’ve been here since opening and I kinda figured that by now there’d be something you’d need.” I was lying my ass off now, why couldn’t I just ask the question and continue from there…stupid, stupid ,stupid.

            “Oh, umm well…” he scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “ I could use a refill on the cider, if you don’t mind.”

            “No problem,” I curtly replied as I turned on my heel hastily and went to the back to retrieve the cider. In under 3 minutes flat I retuned with a warm cup and placed it on his table gently before hastily returning to checking on the other guests in the lounge.

            Six o clock came fast, and soon we were cleaning up the shop. Marco was still seated at his table, packing up his laptop before paying. As I swept the floor again I heard Mikasa and Armin talking about the make-up they were going to do for the haunted house tonight. I had nearly forgotten the fact I promised to meet them there this evening. It was for a good cause and fun(if a guest didn’t haul off and punch you for fun, or worse). The only other downside was the fact it was dark and when people feel around to navigate them you wind up getting groped and touched. The fact my “fist kiss” happened entirely by accident when I was 14 working in one was unpleasant since I was turning a corner to spook someone and the next thing I know I’m tasting cold metal and mint gum. The blonde girl in front of me was screeching at me about how rude it was but I didn’t mean to, it was the most unenjoyable experience with a girl I’ve ever had, besides the one who stalked me around the school for five weeks straight after I left my parents house.    
  
            I left the shop, and went across the street into a local pharmacy. I headed straight to the cosmetics. It had been a few weeks since I was inside here, I still had a habit of wearing eyeliner occasionally so they just accepted it when I went there. Hey a paying customer is a good customer, right? They had shades of lipstick of ever color. I was going to paint my face, frivolously and fantastically. Almost like I came out of a Hollywood horror scene. I was relatively good with it, Vaseline and toilet paper made excellent burn wounds. Eye shadows of purples and blues and blacks could leave someone painfully bruised and even help bring out the veins under pale powdered skin. Foundation could help with scaring and liquid latex was the shit when it came to adhesives for ones skin.

            I gathered the needed materials to make me look as if I was ripped out of dawn of the dead and placed my materials on the counter. They had contacts lined up neatly in a case for just twelve dollars so I asked for a pair of white ones for the nights I was going to be at the haunted house.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the extreme lengthiness of the first chapter, also ill try to update regularly. any questions or coments can be sent to me Here: http://th3-bl1nd-d3t3ct1v3.tumblr.com/ Thanks for reading! Update(april 10th 2014, im sorry but fr right now weekly updates are out of the question due to lack of a comuter to actually type it up. i have chapters 1-3 written on notebook paper but sine i uploaded this in class im a fraid i cannon update for a while. sorry)


End file.
